Green City Market

I am boycotting the cold, I told Dev when he saw me wearing shorts and flip-flops on this cloudy and chilly Saturday morning.

In my summer attire, I was headed to the Green City Market in Lincoln Park. It’s a short walk from my home in the Gold Coast. .

The market was in full swing by the time I arrived. There was fresh produce, green herb plants, fresh eggs and butter, Wisconsin cheeses, organic meats, tulips, crepes, food samples, music, and lots of little babies. Soon I couldn’t distinguish the goosebumps from the warm fuzzy feeling. That is, until I could.

I walked home a little quicker in an attempt to warm up and to avoid the forecasted rain which couldn’t have been far looking at the clouds. I did managed to take a few more pictures of the ivy covered homes.

Leaving you with Dickens’ The Ivy Green. Have a great Saturday.

H, a dainty plant is the Ivy green,

That creepeth o’er ruins old!

Of right choice food are his meals, I ween,

In his cell so lone and cold.

The wall must be crumbled, the stone decayed,

To pleasure his dainty whim:

And the mouldering dust that years have made

Is a merry meal for him.

Creeping where no life is seen,

A rare old plant is the Ivy green.

 

Fast he stealeth on, though he wears no wings,

And a staunch old heart has he.

How closely he twineth, how tight he clings

To his friend the huge Oak Tree!

And slyly he traileth along the ground,

And his leaves he gently waves,

As he joyously hugs and crawleth round

The rich mould of dead men’s graves.

Creeping where grim death hath been,

A rare old plant is the Ivy green.

 

Whole ages have fled and their works decayed,

And nations have scattered been;

But the stout old Ivy shall never fade,

From its hale and hearty green.

The brave old plant, in its lonely days,

Shall fatten upon the past:

For the stateliest building man can raise

Is the Ivy’s food at last.

Creeping on where time has been,

A rare old plant is the Ivy green